


heartpiercer

by kumquatjam



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Glenn Fraldarius Lives, M/M, Mentioned Holst Goneril, Mentioned Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius, Nipple Piercings, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:41:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25255576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kumquatjam/pseuds/kumquatjam
Summary: Glenn had heard Dimitri was back in town, of course—finally returned home to take up an influential position in the Faerghus State Department—but the abstract knowledge of it was very, very different from the sight of Dimitri, in the flesh, loitering uncertainly at the entrance of his shop.“Dimitri,” Glenn repeats, because all other words have failed him. “How can I help you?”--Glenn is the best piercer in Fhirdiad. Dimitri pays him a visit.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Glenn Fraldarius
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	heartpiercer

It’s a shock when the bell overhead tinkles and Glenn looks up to see Dimitri Blaiddyd in the doorway of his tattoo parlor. 

“D-Dimitri,” he stumbles, because Dimitri got _hot_. He’s been gone for four long years, studying abroad in Duscur to escape the constant whispers of _Did you hear what happened to that Blaiddyd boy? Such a tragedy that he went insane after his mother died. What kind of boy stabs his own_ eye _out—_ among the Faerghan elite. Until today, all Glenn could remember of Dimitri was the dark circle permanently smudged under his remaining eye, the other cocooned by white gauze. He had looked so small, then, dwarfed by the bulging duffel bags and suitcases piled high. He had waved at Rodrigue, Lambert and Felix, smiling nervously. Then he had turned around, leaving them all behind.

Four long years, and Dimitri hadn’t returned to Fhirdiad once. “Dimitri is doing quite well for himself,” Rodrigue updated Glenn and Felix from time to time. “He found a therapist in the area that he really likes. I think their name is Byleth? And he’s studying political science now. Lambert told me he snagged a highly prestigious internship at the Duscur embassy. He’s joined the knitting club, and he’s made a good friend named Dedue.” Glenn had meant to visit him, but first he’d been busy with school, then with work, then with opening up his own business. He’d never gotten the chance.

Glenn had heard Dimitri was back in town, of course—finally returned home to take up an influential position in the Faerghus State Department—but the abstract knowledge of it was very, very different from the sight of Dimitri, in the flesh, loitering uncertainly at the entrance of his shop.

“Dimitri,” Glenn repeats, because all other words have failed him. “How can I help you?”

“I have an appointment for today?” Dimitri says, rubbing the back of his neck with a broad hand. Damn, he got _really_ hot: tree trunk thighs, arms thick with corded muscle, chest practically bulging out of the smartly buttoned blue checkered shirt he was wearing. “I, uh, I didn’t realize that you. Worked here.”

“I own this place,” Glenn says flatly. He hadn’t wanted his name up in lights, so the sign outside the door simply says _Knight’s Tattoos & Piercings_. He crosses his arms over his chest. “Holst pencilled in someone named ‘Alexandre’ at this time.”

“I didn’t want anyone else to know I was coming,” Dimitri says. “Rest assured, that reservation was made by me. I can pay now, if you’d like.”

“That’s fine,” Glenn says. He pulls up the paperwork on his tablet, fingers flying across the screen. “What do you have in mind today?”

“I want to get my nipples pierced,” Dimitri says.

Glenn looks up, startled. He allows his eyes to roam over the other man. There are no visible tattoos peeking out from under his clothes, no other piercings on his body. Dimitri is the stock photo of professionalism. Glenn looks down at his own arms, each swirled with ink from wrist to shoulder. When he tilts his head, he can hear his sword earrings jingle. “Your nipples pierced,” he says. 

“Yes, the man on the telephone—Holst? He said you would be very professional,” Dimitri stammered. A pink flush is crawling up the sides of his neck. “But if you are not comfortable with it, please let me know. I can schedule—”

“I didn’t say anything about being uncomfortable,” Glenn interrupts. He taps the tablet a final time before turning it over to Dimitri. “Sign this. It’s your waiver and instructions.” Dimitri doesn’t even read the whole thing, scrolling to the bottom and signing immediately.

“Follow me,” Glenn says. It’s a Tuesday afternoon, so it’s just him working today. He leads Dimitri to a small back room and directs him to sit in the chair in the center of it. “Is this your first piercing?” he asks, setting out his tools. 

“Yes.”

 _Sothis’s tits._ “Okay.” Glenn snaps his gloves on. “All of our jewelry is implant grade titanium, sterilized by the autoclave. I’m going to sanitize everything for you right now.” He turns around, busying himself. “Before I do the actual piercing, I’m going to mark the site where I’ll pierce you so you have an idea what it’ll look like. Take your shirt off for me.” He really should be gentler if it’s really Dimitri’s first piercing, but every time Glenn looks at Dimitri’s face for too long he can feel his gaze skittering away. 

Dimitri obliges, fingers deftly undoing each of the buttons. Glenn watches, transfixed, as inch after inch of tantalizing skin is revealed. Soon, Dimitri is shirtless, broad chest glowing in the faint light from overhead. He’s _pale_ , but his chest is every bit as sculpted as it had looked underneath his shirt. Glenn wants to take ahold of him, one hand on each tit, and squeeze. His nipples are cute, sweet little peaks rising from dusky pink areola. Glenn licks his lips and looks away.

“Okay,” Glenn says, approaching with the marker.

Dimitri’s skin is silky smooth under his fingertips; Glenn splays one hand out on his stomach (for balance, he tells himself) before he can help it. “Okay?” he murmurs.

“Yes,” Dimitri breathes back. His eyes are turned to the ceiling, fingers lightly clutching the armrests of his chair.

Glenn catches a rosy nub between his fingers. He doesn’t even realize that he’s rolling it gently until Dimitri gasps underneath him. “Sorry,” Glenn murmurs. He raises the marker, gently pressing it against the side of Dimitri’s nipple. Dimitri squirms underneath him as the cool ink touches his skin, sensitive already. Glenn’s thumb flutters on Dimitri’s stomach as he marks the other side, then turns to the other nipple. Slow and steady, he reminds himself. Why is he nervous?

He lingers for a few moments before drawing back reluctantly, straightening. “Look in the mirror and tell me if the placement looks good to you,” Glenn instructs Dimitri. The other man stands up immediately, and Glenn, staring straight at Dimitri’s chest, is suddenly reminded of how tall Dimitri is. This close, he can smell him, too: the light whiff of cologne, the pleasant musk underneath. 

“It looks perfect,” Dimitri rumbles, shooting Glenn a shy smile. He settles back into the chair.

Glenn is a professional. He’s only been running this shop for three years, but he has the largest clientele in the city. He’s the best piercer in Fhirdiad, maybe in Faerghus; at this point, the needle is simply an extension of his own hand. He’s pierced bored housewives and college freshmen buoyed by their first taste of freedom. But somehow, Dimitri might be more than he can handle. 

He readies his supplies, fortifying himself. “You’re going to feel a pinch as the needle goes through, but it’ll be brief,” he tells Dimitri. He’s already changed his gloves. He picks up the needle.

Up close, Glenn can see the flutter of Dimitri’s eyelashes, the frosted blue of his good eye. He braces one pec with his thumb and pointer finger, holding him steady. The other presses the needle lightly over the spot he had marked just moments before. “Okay,” Glenn says. “I’m going to count down from three, and then I’m going to push the needle through.”

“I’m ready,” Dimitri says.

“Three,” Glenn says. “Two. One.”

The moment he slides the needle home is electric. Dimitri’s eye closes, and he lets out a breathy gasp that’s teetering on the edge of a moan. His hands, one on each side, clench tight onto the armrests of the chair. The piercing is smooth and clean, just how it always is. Dimitri’s panting softly as Glenn threads the jewelry through. “How are we doing?”

“Good,” Dimitri whispers. His eye is still closed. “Ah, yes, I’m—fine.” Glenn leans back to admire his handiwork. His nipple is angry and puffy, swollen from the abuse that Glenn has just put it through. The barbell gleams as it catches the light. 

“Time for the other side,” Glenn says, ripping open the package for the other needle. “Everything still alright?”

“Yes,” Dimitri says, hands still clenched on the chair. Glenn nods.

The second time is no easier than the first: Dimitri’s freshly pierced nipple winks up at him, swollen and inviting. In his professional opinion, Glenn hasn’t seen any nipple take to a piercing that beautifully. He longs for nothing more than to bring it into his mouth, taste the sharp tang of the metal, run his teeth along the edges. How would Dimitri squirm for him? Glenn wonders. Sweet and shy, or sultry and teasing? For professional and hygienic reasons, he focuses on the task at hand instead.

“Ready?” he asks. Dimitri nods. “Three, two. One.”

This time, Dimitri throws his head back, whimpering loud as Glenn pushes the needle through. “Glenn!” he sobs, and if Glenn closes his eyes he could imagine himself atop Dimitri in a very different way. Instead, he continues to work, methodical. He slides the other barbell through Dimitri’s nipple, admiring the silver glint of it contrasted with the dark pink of Dimitri’s skin. “Beautiful,” he murmurs, soft. 

When Dimitri blinks an eye open, it’s wet with tears. Glenn hands a tissue over, wordlessly, and watches as Dimitri stands up unsteadily and makes his way over to the mirror. His eye is wide; his hands reach up, unbidden, as if to palm at the new jewelry adorning his chest.

“Don’t touch them.” Glenn’s voice is stern. Dimitri nods, shakily, dropping his hands down to clench uselessly at his sides.

“Thank you, Glenn,” he says, hesitantly.

Glenn grabs two band-aids. “Your nipples will be sensitive when you put your shirt back on,” he says. “Let me put these on to help.” Dimitri nods again, watching as Glenn unwraps the bandages and sticks them, petal pink, onto his chest. The outline of the barbell is clear through the thin material of the bandage, reminding Dimitri—and Glenn—what had just transpired.

As if Glenn will ever forget.

The silence as Dimitri pulls his shirt back on his companionable. Glenn purses his lips, tasting the words in his mouth as he works up the courage.

“Dima?”

The other man looks up expectantly.

Glenn smiles. “Welcome home.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm @kumquatjamkat on twitter!


End file.
